


Sacred Vessel of Lard

by BleedingHeart911



Category: Monster High
Genre: F/M, Other, otp baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 14:19:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4183017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedingHeart911/pseuds/BleedingHeart911
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cleo needs a pep talk when she can't fit into any of her dresses. Baby weight will do that to a ghoul.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sacred Vessel of Lard

Instead of making up second-generation stories about their daughter I keep going back to a weepy, pregnant Cleo. I feel unimaginative and evil. Oh well, hope this is enjoyed by someone.

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You are what you wear and how you scare; that is how a fashionable, successful, glorious monster thinks. Cleo DeNile was that sort of monster; she was terrifyingly beautiful and accomplished, she was full of pride.  
Pride that was getting a Scaraha desert sunburn as Cleo tried to pull the back of her dress together to close. The fetus she was growing reached its fourth month. Its existence was still bizarre to its Mummy. Cleo spent six-thousand years believing she’d never become pregnant. The mummy had become the CEQ (Corporate Executive Queen) of a major toy company, not the type of job that allows nap-time. Bizarre that she was even in this position because her boyfriend couldn’t even get stone-hard without birth control and this stupid little slip was causing tears in her pants and dresses! Everything she wanted to wear was too small to cover the cantaloupe-size gut. Cleo received a year-supply of moo-moos from her sister and as a 'congratulations' gift. She stubbornly decided she wouldn't regret using them in Deuce's slow-roast barbecue.

Cleo looked into her four-panel-wall-to-ceiling mirror. Her face was getting pudgy and the extra cushion in her middle was disorienting. She felt ashamed she'd allowed herself to get as such, she felt ashamed as a future mother. DeNiles don't do shame!

She heard hissing coming up the corridor of her walk-about closet. 

“Cleo, great news.” The gorgon said as he poked his head around the corner of her summer collection. “The scallop butter, eel moss and honey ice cream fusion dish we made last night is a real killer. The dudes at the restaurant ate it up as fast as yo-”

He caught her icy glare and reformed his thoughts. “Your average werewolf would.”

“That’s wonderful, Deuce.” Cleo said as she pulled her dress down her arm. “You get inspiration from my freaky awful cravings to show off to your little cronies.”

Deuce was scared of her cool, growing furious, tone but he liked her style of torture. She slipped off her slinky black dress as if changing her skin from deep blue to roasted-mocha.

“Your reptilian scaritage keeps you as trim and slim, something our little ghoul is so lucky to be receiving in her gene pool,” Cleo’s dress drops to the floor, she kicks it away with her five-inch heel (swelling around the straps).

“I love our baby, deeply and epically, like nothing I’ve ever cherished before. Myself, included.” Cleo’s blue eyes sliced into the gorgon’s secretive green eyes. 

She stepped up to Deuce and, though she was a head shorter, Cleo stared him down.

“I am over brimming with joy,” The mummy princess said with a smile, “all except for the tiny, wittle fact that you MADE ME OVERBRIM WITH FAT!”

Deuce’s snakes dropped their tongues. He remembered what courage felt like and put his hands on her shoulders. “Babe, it’ll never matter if you blubber up and jiggle like flam, you’ll always be the bombshell that owns me.”

“Doy, I know that.” Cleo said, thoroughly unenlightened, “This isn’t about your needs, Deuce, it’s about me! I’m getting….less amazing.”

“How is growing the most awesome monster in the universe on top your kidneys not amazing? ” The sunglass-wearing manster asked sarcastically.

“While she becomes more wonderful, with her perfect little toes, little hands and little jewel-glistening scales, she's sucking my youth away from me! I’m getting…weak. I feel tired when I wake up, everything makes me sappy, makes me flabby and slow. This isn’t the me I know.” Cleo poked the blob under her ribs.

Her baby-daddy could’ve said he liked how fat she was getting. He could’ve admitted seeing her plump and lazy with their hatchling cozy inside was a blissful scene. The gorgon did not say these things.

“I like to think of it as an improvement. Before you feed me to crocs listen, okay? Because when we got back together, Cleo, I thought I got everything I wanted. We could’ve never kids and we’d still be pretty happy. I mean, we could’ve adopted after we see how Gil and Lagoona’s kids turned out but I didn’t think we’d get our own fusion. You beat the odds those quack doctors told us decades ago and I have never been more impressed, Cleo DeNile.”

Tears ran over the diamond kept on her cheek. “I still miss looking good.”

“I miss your clothes too, Cleo.” The chef said as he hugged his baby-mummy.

“You’re just saying that.” Cleo whined to his shirt.

Deuce grinned without a trace of shame. “Well, honestly yeah, your best outfits were always Birthday Suits and-”

His mouth stopped as two teal-nailed fingers covered his lips. “You did good by me five seconds ago, please let me enjoy that.”

Cleo enjoyed the quiet after his declaration; it quenched her thirst for recognition in family love. Friends’ love and colleague’s respect is next on the list, for now I’m getting my cuddle with those pythons around me.

He smelled liked burnt iron, fresh salad and paprika; when we’re us, I still feel like me. She felt his abbs on her puffy baby bump; well, there’s us and little Cleo the Second. She has to be in the middle all the time, the center of all the attention. She’s just like her Mummy <3


End file.
